A lock of brown hair had fallen across his forehead and at first she'd thought he was kissing her hand.
But no. He was sniffing it.
That had sent her into such a turmoil of conflicting emotions—flattery, surprise, embarrassment, but also something else. A strange but imperceptible tremor had shaken her. Then there had been a warm tingling in the depths of her being that had flowed through her entire body until she'd felt breathless and quite hot. She would have pulled her hand away, but he'd dropped it abruptly and walked out of the house without a second glance.
It was the strangest encounter she'd ever had with a man. Granted, she hadn't had many.
And now, she would have to write to Miss Hilversham.
Ellen groaned.
How was she to explain this?
A cold stone settled in her stomach. She felt like Judas. Would Miss Hilversham ever forgive her?
She sat down at the pretty little desk and pulled out a drawer. There was paper, along with some quills and ink.
By the time she'd finished her letter, it was evening.
Her stomach made a loud, awkward sound. She put a hand over it. Noni would have been fed by now. She'd have to check on him and see if he was comfortable. Perhaps there was a way for her to find some food as well.
Ellen made her way down the stairs and passed the drawing room, which she saw was empty.
She followed the hallway, now sparkling with all the candles that had been lit—oh my, you could dance on the polished marble floor—and with a hint of exuberance, she whirled around.
A maid came out of a room and stopped when she saw Ellen.
"Your dinner is served in the dining room, miss," the maid said. "If you would follow me."
The dining room was grand, with sparkling chandeliers and a vast table set for one.
Was Ellen to dine here, all alone?
She drew a hand over her dress and frowned. She had no other dress to change into. With a pang of alarm, she wondered if the baron would dine with her.
"Perhaps it would be better if I ate in my room," she began.
"His lordship has gone to the club," the maid explained, and Ellen relaxed. She stepped to the table. The basket of fresh rolls smelled heavenly.
Her stomach rumbled, and she decided to throw all etiquette to the wind and eat, whether or not she was presentable. The hearty lamb stew that was served was simple, but divine. Ellen had never eaten so much in her life.
Returning to her room, she realised she'd have to visit the dressmaker first thing in the morning. She wasn't in the least prepared for this position. She had neither the clothes, supplies, nor books to teach Noni. Perhaps something could be done about the books. Surely the baron had them somewhere in the library. She'd just have to find the room first.
The next morning,a maid had ironed her dress, but Ellen sighed when she saw her boots. With the soles on the verge of falling off, no amount of cleaning could make the worn-out pair of boots look like new. There was nothing she could do about it. She would have to wear them again until she had time to buy a new pair.
Ellen had admired the pitcher and jar on the washstand, made of Meissen porcelain, exquisitely decorated with pink and gold roses and so delicate that she hardly dared use them. Next to the washbowl, which looked like an oversized rose leaf, was a small bar of soap wrapped in silk paper. Ellen lifted it reverently to her nose and sniffed. It was Pears soap. Heavily taxed and unaffordable for most people, only the wealthiest households could afford this item of luxury.
What a lovely change from the cheaper, unscented soft soap, which they used at the seminary. After a moment's hesitation, she unwrapped the soap from the silken paper and held the translucent, oval bar in her hands. A delicate floral scent wafted into her nose. How lovely.
She washed her hands and face using the soap, and dried herself with the towel that lay next to the bowl.
Now she must find the library. Where was it? She went down to the first floor and looked in every room. Ellen entered the drawing room she'd been in yesterday, then a smaller drawing room in red next to it, and a third door revealed a drawing room in blue. All the rooms were very pretty and tastefully furnished. Another door was at the end of the hall, before the staircase that led down to the kitchen.
Just as she reached for the door, it opened, and a gentleman stepped out.
Ellen jumped.
"You must be Miss Robinson." He had a clean-shaven, pleasant face, was immaculately dressed and held several sheets in his hands. "My name is West. Robert West. I am his lordship's secretary."
